


Send Me Thorns

by Sucrosesanction



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Steve, Bruises, Consensual Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Deep Throating, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Dominant Bucky, Exhibitionism, Flogging, Hand Jobs, Impact Play, M/M, Masochism, Obedience, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Play Parties, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Sadism, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, St. Andrew's Cross, Submission, Submissive Steve, Swallowing, Top Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:44:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sucrosesanction/pseuds/Sucrosesanction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky broke the silence, as if he couldn't handle wondering anymore, "So a kink party. I never would've thought I'd see you someplace like this."</p><p>Steve couldn't help but see the way Bucky was looking at the leather straps on his wrists, eyes locked on and almost disbelieving. "Yeah, well there's a lot about my sexuality you didn't really ask about. Case and point, I never would've guessed you'd be here either," Steve shot back, taking another sip from his drink.</p><p>Bucky watched him for a moment longer, eyes glinting with something that was making Steve feel heated and a little overwhelmed in a way that he really shouldn’t be. "I was stupider back then, but it's not too late to ask now right?" Bucky pressed with that grin on his lips, the one that said he was going to get what he wanted, and Steve was going to give it to him.</p><p>(Or the one in which Steve and Bucky discover that maybe their tastes aren't so different and maybe that's not such a bad thing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. History

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic comes from a BDSM guidebook called "Screw the Roses, Send me Thorns." It's an excellent read. Also suggested are "The New Bottoming Book" and "The New Topping Book" by Janet Hardy and Dossie Easton.
> 
> Thanks to Mission Control for the concept of a PAL (Pervy Activity Liaison) and many other things you all can ask me about if you really want to.
> 
> Tags, characters, and relationships will be updated with each chapter, for the different things the boys are getting themselves into. The first chapter or two are going to be relatively tame, sexually. I guess. Considering 1 & 2 are just going to be the establishment phases of the relationship.
> 
> I will admit to sitting on this first chapter for a month before getting up the nerve to post it. I was definitely being a perfectionist in the editing stages.
> 
> Comments and kudos, as always, are love.

The music snuck up on Steve, soundproofed walls meant he couldn't hear it until he was inside the front door, but once he was there the vibrations ran up through his toes to the top of his head. In the too narrow staircase that lead up to the party he could already see the sheen of sweat plastered to the walls and the air was so thick with the smells of sex and booze that he was nearly intoxicated upon entry. Steve was feeling a bit overwhelmed, or at least that had been his first reaction to the private party Natasha had dragged him to.

“Come on, I need a pal Steve, and who can I trust better than you to keep me from doing something or someone incredibly stupid?” She had asked him, with those big green eyes and her cute little pout. Damn her for knowing just what tone to ask him with. Of course people saw this dynamic they had where she knew exactly how to get what she wanted from him and they assumed, but it wasn't like that. Natasha was just a master manipulator and given an hour with anyone she wouldn't even have to twist any arms to get what she wanted.

When the first moan hit his ears, Steve couldn't help the blush creeping onto his cheeks. Of course he’d known what sort of party this was, Natasha wouldn't have asked him along if she hadn't thought he’d be at least slightly interested, but that didn't mean he was used to this sort of thing in a public setting.

When they were signed in and fully inside the building, Steve caught sight of some of the outfits and he was definitely feeling entirely overdressed. There were men strutting in g-strings and collars and heels while women strutted in bright tu-tu skirts and bras. Next to him Natasha was stunning with her red hair swept into a tight bun with only a few choice strands falling into her face and in dark red leather pants and a matching vest. He didn't have to look long to confirm that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. ‘Perfectly unkempt library dominatrix’ would be what he would have called the look.

Natasha said he was fine in black skinny jeans, vest and white tank top, and that his half-sleeve contrasted well with the black and white ensemble. She’d even found a pair of black leather straps to put around his wrists, ‘a subtle hint’ she had said. 'They don't make any direct statements, but they do leave people wondering and they're a nice accessory. They bring together the casual, slightly interested in BDSM art student look.' Now Steve just felt self-conscious and he didn't waste any time in telling Nat as much as soon as they were past the door attendant.

“Just hang out with me by the bar for a while. The atmosphere calms down after a couple hours and then someone will come around to replace me,” Natasha dismissed with a hand on his arm, guiding him over to the bar gently. “Then we can do whatever. If you still feel like leaving, we can leave.”

“Just never been someplace like this before Nat,” Steve admitted while trying to get his face to come down a couple shades of red.

“It’s fine. You’re not overdressed, and if you’d stop ogling at the scantily clad you’d notice the suit and ties, ladies in their fancy dress, and the leathers all around you. You look fine Steve.” She comforted with a soft hand his cheek before hopping over to the other side of bar, “Besides, maybe you’ll meet someone here.”

“Nat!” Steve exclaimed, “I don’t need to find a replacement, I've been okay on my own since Peggy.”

“I know, I know,” Natasha waved off the bartender before her, red painted nails catching the light, “I got this, go join Tony in the other room Pepp.”

Apparently you didn’t have to tell the tall redhead with the high ponytail and dress suit twice. She was off like a shot after pecking Natasha on the cheek and a quick thank you.

“I just think it’s a shame such a handsome guy’s been on ice for over a year now,” Natasha finished when Pepper was out of earshot, already mixing drinks for two ladies at the other end of the bar.

Steve just rolled his eyes, “I’m okay, really.” And he actually was pretty okay with it by now. He and Peg had called it off when she had to return to England at the end of her student visa. A long distance thing between the two of them might have worked, but the effort and emotional drain it would have taken was too much for either of them. Since then Steve had focused on his classes and spent most of the time he wasn’t studying playing at portraiture and designing tattoos for himself and his friends. He had every intention of coming out of college an architect, but if that failed, his tattoo artist said he had great potential for an apprenticeship.

Natasha handed him a glass and turned her back to him for a moment while shelving the whiskey, “Yeah Steve, that’s what you always say. Now go ahead and eye the nice folk while I make drinks and pretend I don’t notice the way you’re staring.”

Steve settled back with his whiskey on the rocks and did just that. Now that Nat had broken the spell that was his hyper-focus, Steve did notice all sorts of nicely dressed people on the dance floor. Most of them were even wearing pants and shirts, though admittedly not all of them. He could tell the who had come together and who would be leaving with with who. He caught sight of the collared submissives and their Mistresses and Sirs watching them dance from the sidelines. Occasionally a couple would show off dance moves a little too practiced to not be something they rehearsed at home. The switches were harder to identify, but undoubtedly they were there too. Then there were those who really just got off on voyeurism and exhibitionism, making public displays in a room next to this one, and Steve could just see the beginning of their activities out of the corner of his eye.

Steve had always enjoyed people watching, it had been one of the many ways he’d passed time in the service on the too long, too hot four year tour through Afghanistan. He hadn't signed up for a second tour, just gracefully bowed out with a good service record and an honorable discharge. It wasn't that Steve didn't like serving his country, it was just that he had seen and done enough to know when his mind was done with the fight. He’d gotten accepted into NYU easily enough on his military history alone, and then he’d met Peggy in the library.

How had their first conversation gone? “You look like you just got out of Hell,” She’d said to him. And he’d laughed because it was an entirely accurate summation of things. They had taken things slowly, gotten coffee a time or two and discussing likes and dislikes, wants and needs and absolute lines that should never be crossed. A dinner date or two after that, they’d gotten back to her room, and Steve could still remember the sting of her crop on his back, thighs and ass, or the feel of her nails over his skin, the way she raked them through his scalp. He could still feel the way her words had felt over his ear, sweet callings of ‘what a little slut you are, always so happy and wanton at the call of my palm,’ contrasted by the comforts that would come after, ‘good boy, look how perfect you are.’ Those had been amazing experiences, he just hadn't found someone to share the same sort of experiences with since. Not that he’d really been looking.

That was really how Nat had convinced him to come to this play party with her, though he’d ever admit out loud that he was looking for someone here. There was no need to feed Nat's ego further by teller her she was right. He did miss it though, and he couldn't deny that the possibility of finding the right partner enticed him. But he was starting to feel like this wasn't the place to meet someone for him. He wasn't really the dancing and drinking sort.

“Hey Steve,” Nat called, pulling him out of his reverie, “Go get Pepper for me while I get you a refill. I have a friend at the door I need to escort in.”

Steve hadn't even realized his drink was empty, “I thought I was your pal,” Steve smirked, leaving his glass for her to refill. Pal, as Natasha had explained it, was your sanity check friend. You came with your pal, you left with your pal, and you made sure your pal didn't do anything stupid. Everyone in the party had to have one minimum.

“You are, and I’m yours. But I’m also going to be his because his original pal couldn't be here tonight,” Natasha answered with a tone that Steve knew was meant to be domineering, but really just sounded more like she poking fun. Natasha couldn't really do her dominant voice on him, though he had heard it once or twice when she was flirting with some of their classmates. It just wasn't their relationship.

“Fine. I’ll be right back,” Steve shrugged, off to find wherever the redhead had run off to. Find her he did, inside one of the playrooms. At least she wasn't currently playing, just watching a happy couple go at it. Steve wouldn't interrupt something as intimate as this, he’d rather cover the bar for Nat himself for all of the five minutes it would take to get the newcomer signed in. Everyone would get their booze straight or they'd have to tell him how to put together whatever they wanted, but it would be better than interrupting someone mid-scene.

There was a short, curly-haired brunette tied to the St. Andrews Cross thoroughly enjoying his Dominant’s flogger on his back, the leather leaving long angry red streaks in it’s wake. The brunette's skin was already covered in a sheer layer of sweat and a soft, pliant smile played on his lips. With every lash, the sub was moaning even while his body spasmed involuntarily.

“Sorry,” Steve whispered after being distracted a moment too long at the scene in front of him, tapping Pepper on the shoulder, “But Nat says she needs to escort someone inside really quick. Could you cover for her a minute?”

Pepper nodded and stepped through the crowd to whisper something in the top’s ear - compliments maybe? - before slipping gracefully back to the bar. Steve, unabashedly, stayed behind to watch the top with his devilish grin and goatee and flogger play their game across the brunette’s skin. The leather leaving slowly blooming dark marks across the other man’s skin and soft touches that followed, momentary check ins while he waited for the submissive to tell him to continue, was almost too much for Steve. Just a few moment’s later, when the smaller man let a roar of ecstasy rip from his lips, it was too much and Steve had to leave before he bit straight through his lip.

By the time he made his way back to the bar Natasha had returned, and someone new was at the bar, but his seat was still open so he took it and tipped his second drink to his lips. “There was a damn nice scene going on in the other room,” Steve announced, “Had to get out of there before I nearly lost it.”

“Yeah, Pepp was telling me about it. Tony and his new plaything have been experimenting with their boundaries,” Natasha clarified.

“Mmmn…” Steve didn’t really know who Tony or his plaything or Pepper were, but he could figure out who was who by the implications in Natasha's statement, and they were quite the visually stunning group.

“Don’t tell me that this is how you know my new boss,” The newcomer laughed.

“This is how I met him, got him to hook you up with your new, slightly experimental arm, and got you a nice job so quickly,” Natasha gloated.

It was only then that Steve really looked at him. He must have been the friend Nat had gone to let in, leather boots over the cuffs of form fitting jeans and a simple black shirt which didn't leave much to the imagination it was so tight, long brown hair, perfect fucking lips and lashes for days framing blue-grey eyes. And then Steve recognized him, of course it was the lashes that did it, “Holy shit Bucky,” Steve slipped, “I haven’t seen you since before you left for your first tour.”

“Steve Rogers. Funny to think this is where I’d meet you again after six years,” Bucky grinned, turning to pull Steve into a tight hug.

“Oh, funny to think that this is where I find out you’re back in New York again, not, you know, through a phone call or text or email or anything. You were supposed to be touring for another two years!” Steve scolded, but he returned the hug enthusiastically. He came up just slightly taller than Bucky, his last growth spurt had done him a few favors in passing his best friend's height, though Bucky's current muscle mass was certainly nothing to laugh at.

“I was! I was!” Bucky admitted, running a hand through his hair and holy shit when did Bucky start letting his hair grow out? “That’s where my new arm comes in." Bucky lifted his left arm to let Steve look over it more closely. There was no hair on it, but the skin tone matched Bucky’s perfectly and the texture and temperature felt right and it was detailed perfectly down to the trimmed set of nails. In the dim lighting you wouldn't even be able to tell the difference. Steve let himself touch it a little too long, and Bucky flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulder, and twisted his wrist to show his full range of mobility.

“Nice,” Steve let out, “Is this hooked up to your nerves?” It was way more advanced than any of the prosthetics he’d seen on any of the other veterans he’d met down at the VA.

“Yeah, Nat meant it when she said it was experimental. I can feel pressure through it, and the start of some temperatures and textures. It’s a little dulled compared to what it used to be, but it's better than nothing or phantom pains,” Bucky grinned while Steve awed over the limb. Before Steve could think to ask how come he’d lost his arm in the first place Bucky was talking again, all tenderness, “It’s good to see you man.”

“You too Buck,” Steve echoed, a hitch in his breath. Why was there a hitch in his breath? Maybe it was the fucking pants Bucky was wearing. Steve didn't think he’d ever have to imagine anything again after seeing Bucky in those pants.

“Well it’s good to see you two know each other already,” Natasha interrupted, cleaning a glass and looking slightly superior. “Do tell how,” She demanded.

Steve couldn't even stop himself from explaining, too excited to see Bucky for the first time after entirely too long to be a smartass, "We were friends all through grade school."

"Up and through boot camp, after which I went to sniper school while Stevie stayed with the infantry," Bucky continued for him.

"Yeah, which is why I haven't seen my best friend for so long," Steve muttered with a good swat to Bucky's chest.

"Oh don't be so sour Steve," Buck groaned, a hand on his chest, "You're a lot stronger than you were in school."

Natasha was laughing at them, and to be honest, that was usually how third parties responded to their antics, "Get a room kids. It's not like this place doesn't have enough of them."

"Nah, I came here because someone asked me if I could still dance with a fake arm. My pride couldn't handle a challenge like that," Bucky teased with a grin.

"So how do you two know each other?" Steve asked suddenly, curiosity getting the better of him.

"You remember when I danced Stevie?" Bucky answered with a question of his own. As if Steve could forget - being a teenager and suddenly realizing his best friend had everything to do with his budding sexuality had been hard enough. Bucky dancing had only made it much, much harder, "Well Nat and I went to the same studio when we were younger. After she found out about my arm, she told me she might know someone who could help me get a damn good prosthetic, and here we are."

Steve bit his lip half a second before he got his tone under control, later he'd wonder just how he'd managed too keep both lips in tact that night, "How am I the last to find out about this injury anyway Buck?"

"I've been kind of guarded about it. It was only my unit and my family that knew for about a month, and then Nat saw me doing the one armed struggle at that grocery store in Brooklyn - you know the one I've always shopped at - and she scolded me for not getting help earlier," the other man admitted, cheeks tinged with slight embarrassment.

"It's true," Natasha admitted, "Though he's being nice when he says I scolded him. It was much worse than something as friendly as a scolding."

"Alright, I'll buy it," Steve allowed, "Nat and I met last year in my figure drawing classes. And no, she wasn't even the model." Steve figured he might as well jump the gun on explanations, no reason to keep things from Bucky.

Natasha touched Steve's shoulder affectionately, with a grin on her lips. "Flatterer, I'm going back to work while you two catch up. Don’t do anything I wouldn't," She called as she walked away to take a few orders.

"Yeah, it's been a while," Bucky breathed, before continuing in a more solid tone, "Back to art then punk?"

"Actually architecture, but I fill my electives up with as much art as I can manage jerk," There they were, back to the norm.

"This your design then?" Bucky asked, the index and middle fingers of his good arm brushing across the ink in his shoulder, sending electricity through Steve. Jesus Buck shouldn't have these powers over him with the slightest touch, after only seeing each other for a few minutes.

"Yeah," Steve admitted over the rush of his blood in his ears, "Penned it just after my tour, then took it in a week later and got all the appointments made. Only took four sessions, about 26 hours total." The half-sleeve featured an armband of tribal waves and above that there were half submerged porpoises and turtles and small specks of fish, which bled up into a much more realistic star-studded sky. He and his artist had decided to do the piece entirely in black, greys and blues. There was more to that sky over his shoulder blade and chest, swirls of constellations and galaxies until finally the work just settled into his pale skin. "Could put something together for you too if you wanted."

Bucky seemed to think about it a while before nodding, "Something for this prosthetic would be nice. Once they've finished any tinkering with it."

Steve nodded his agreement, and then slowed down for the fear of making himself look overly eager, "Can I paint it myself? Normally I'd pass it off to my guy at Impressions, but if it's on your prosthetic I won't have to worry about not knowing how to use a needle properly."

Bucky laughed, as though there had never been another option, "Of course, who else would paint as well as you?"

Steve sighed his silent breath of relief and let the sounds of music thump over the two of them while he took another sip of his whiskey.

After a beat or two of quiet between them, Bucky broke the silence, as if he couldn't handle wondering anymore, "So a kink party. I never would've thought I'd see you someplace like this."

Steve couldn't help but see the way Bucky was looking at the leather straps on his wrists, eyes locked on and questioning. "Yeah, well there's a lot about my sexuality you didn't really ask about. Case and point, I never would've guessed you'd be here either," Steve shot back, taking another sip from his drink.

Bucky watched him for a moment longer, eyes glinting with something that was making Steve feel heated and a little overwhelmed in a way that he really shouldn't be. "I was stupider back then, but it's not too late to ask now right?" Bucky pressed with that grin on his lips, the one that said he was going to get what he wanted, and Steve was going to give it to him.

Steve had never been able to resist that look, even before they had hit puberty and Bucky had bloomed into the most handsome fucking kid on their block, but his stubbornness was showing. “Tell you what,” Steve offered, “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

That had Bucky grinning like a loon, but before he could answer Nat hopped right in between them, “I’m taking you up on that dance now. You two can finish later, but this song is the one Barnes. We dance now.”

“We’ll catch up on that later Stevie,” Bucky used his old nickname like a promise, making Steve feel too young in the same breath as making his throat catch. Still, Steve felt his mood fall a little when Bucky got down from his bar stool and let himself be led onto the dance floor. It only lasted for half a moment though, because as soon as Nat and Buck started moving together everything else in the room seemed to stop.

The dance Steve was watching had two equals fighting for dominance, for who would lead them, and he didn't have to really wonder at Bucky’s orientation. The ghosting of Bucky’s hand over Natasha’s neck, and the viciousness that their moves struck told Steve all he needed to know. It was stunning still, the way their hips moved in unison and their perfect footwork and their hands all over each other. Their dance was part salsa, hip-hop, tango, and something that was entirely of their own making.

The spell lasted two songs more, and then it came to a crashing flourish of a close when Bucky managed to sweep Natasha off of her feet and into his arms, her back bent over his right arm while his prosthetic ghosted over her side and hips. Bucky was looking at Natasha with a tenderness that anyone in the room could see. Bucky pulled her up, kissed both of her cheeks, and took them off the dance floor.

Steve really, really, couldn't hide his reaction to the show, so he took off to the bathroom quick like before they noticed he had been glued to his stool through the whole thing. Was it the flash of jealousy he was trying to hide - Jesus that monster was rearing it’s head a lot tonight - or was it the massive arousal? That dance had sent Steve back to things he had fantasized about as a teenager, Bucky’s hands around his neck while he was sweating and panting and pleading and begging as Bucky buried Steve with his body, his hips undulating and teasing all the while. The fantasies were suddenly fresh again, and he remembered why he used to think he was Bucky-sexual. That was something he and Bucky had never talked about though. A deep breath and several splashes of water to the face had Steve coming down off of it.

With a shake of his head, Steve returned to the party, eyes scanning for Natasha or Bucky or both. He saw them talking quietly, intimately, privately, with their heads bowed together in a corner of the room opposite the bathroom, and Steve caught himself staring. Unfortunately, so had someone else, “Hot aren't they? I’d love to catch myself between the two of them.” Steve attempted to ignore the stranger's heated commentary before Bucky caught him looking and waved him over.

“Lucky lucky,” The stranger managed to whisper again before Steve loped off to join them in their corner.

Bucky and Steve never did get back their conversation that night, neither did Steve get to find out what Bucky and Nat had been so intent to talk about. Something in the atmosphere of the party had Natasha itching to dance, and when she turned her needs towards a man how could he just say no? Somehow Steve ended up on the dance floor between her and Buck, despite protests of "I don't dance," and "I'm going to look ridiculous next to you two." His body betrayed him though, dancing anyway, and somehow he wasn't feeling entirely ridiculous by the time the three of them stumbled out around two in the morning.

"Do you need a ride back to your place?" Natasha directed her question at Bucky, unsure how he got there.

Halfway through Bucky's response, "That'd be nice, rode the subway here," Steve was racing towards her car, calling shotgun before Bucky realized what he'd done. It was only seconds later that Bucky was chasing after him, with a string of curses on his tongue and pavement pounding beneath his feet.

The cool air felt good on his skin in contrast to the sweat heavy air of the party, and racing Bucky was a throwback to their years in school together. Steve couldn't think of anything to make him happier just then.

"You're a punk Rogers," Buck gritted out when Steve beat him to the car moments later.

"And you're a jerk Barnes," Steve answered automatically, his hand already on the passenger side door handle.

"You're both children," Nat called from behind them as she unlocked the doors with the remote. They scrambled in, proving her entirely too correct when they bantered over nothing and everything throughout the whole ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes that was a pile of Pepper, Tony, and Bruce you caught in the middle of that. Poly shipping is mah thang. You're welcome.


	2. Establishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience while I put this chapter together. There's been a lot going on in my life lately, but Steve and Bucky are wonderful with helping out my daily detox.
> 
> As per the usual, comments and kudos are love.

It wasn't even the next day when Natasha started texting him about it, 'So you two have never, ever done anything? At all? Ever?'

Steve couldn't help but huff as he typed back his reply, fingers tapping furiously quick, 'It was never like that with us Nat. Pretty sure he's straight as an arrow.' She had been like this all last night after they'd dropped Bucky off at his apartment.

'Dunno about that, the way he was looking at you like you were some slice a pie to be eaten up... Also you know arrows may be straight, but they fly crooked. Archers everywhere have to compensate for that.'

'Nat please, I'm in class.'

'Ohhh I'm making you blush aren't I? Just saying you two should try something. You're compatible, and you know you want to.'

Steve didn't even bother to deny the accusation, or give any reply at all, despite the teasing it would get him later. The facts were that he really liked the dynamic he and Bucky had maintained all this time and if they changed it now, he couldn't say it would be for the better. Also the fact that he really should be focusing on his classes and not texting his friends about boys - he wasn’t in high school anymore. Luckily this was Design II and a day where they were focusing on projects - not his Calculus class. Natasha had a nasty habit of texting him right in the middle of his Calc lectures, and he was starting to think she was timing it that way on purpose.

A couple days later when Bucky texted him on his off day from class though, Steve was curious as to what the outcome might be if he didn’t exactly keep things quiet. Sure, the Cherry Pie reference had felt a little fallacious coming from Nat, but Bucky sure had been dancing against him just as filthily as he had with Tasha. Maybe he had missed the looks Natasha had been talking about.

'Hey punk, I'm free for like an entire week. We should finish catching up. Things got cut short at the party.'

Steve's breath caught just thinking about it, but his nature got the better of him, 'Oh so now you text me. A month and a half after you've already been here.'

After ten minutes with no response, Steve thought maybe he had been too harsh. Not that he had been waiting for a reply that whole time - of course he hadn't. It just so happened that nothing entertaining was happening elsewhere. He was about to type out a quick excuse, 'Just poking fun' already typed out in the text box when his phone buzzed another update.

'Don't be so sore about it Stevie. I'll tell you all about it if you meet up with me. You free today?'

Steve really didn't want to concede that easily, but his housemate was having one of his 'spend the whole day in bed with his lady friend' days and Steve didn't really care to be around for it. Not to mention that breakfast supplies were looking sparse in the kitchen, 'Sure, what part of town you living in these days?'

'Brooklyn still. Remember Grinders?'

'The hipster cafe?' Of course, that could have implied a hundred and one different places in Brooklyn, but Steve and Bucky had only frequented a few of them when they were younger.

'Yeah. Still got the best breakfast burritos this side of town. It gets bonus points for being a ten minute walk from my new place tho.'

'Sure. I'll be there in a half an hour.' And then Steve looked at himself in his pajamas and realized maybe putting on real clothes would be a good idea. Not that he was dressing to impress anybody. No, never. Still, he sent out another quick text, 'Hey, make that 45 Buck. Just realized I should put on a shirt.'

'Awwe, and let all the ladies of the City miss out on your glorious man flesh Rogers? You do wrong by them Stevie.'

Was this flirting? This felt suspiciously like flirting to Steve, but somehow he didn't mind in the slightest as he pulled on a band tee and combed his hair back. And if he put a little extra effort into making himself look good, would that really be such a bad thing?

The entire subway ride there was nervous anticipation and the transit was of course crowded, wasn’t it always? There was someone standing too close to the left of him and to his right a trio of teens were dancing to a boombox playing music not quite loud enough to overpower the roar of the subway tunnels, causing a sort of disjointed incongruity between the dancers and their music. If Steve weren’t being so impatient he might have seen something artistic in the act, but as it was he just wanted to be there already. Lucky enough, the R brought him right to the cafe and the bustle of city motion around him slowed for just a moment in the doorway.

And then he was through the doors and the cafe was roaring to life around him with people discussing their political opinions and food preferences over the music blaring through the speakers, couples with bowed heads trying to get a semblance of privacy, orders being called out over the counter by baristas with voices already hoarse from the effort. Steve spotted Bucky at a table futzing on his phone, and the commotion slowed again with his sudden focus on the other man. He could tell by the indent of Bucky's cheek that he had been chewing at it while he waited, and Steve had to wonder momentarily what Bucky had to worry about here.

He couldn't think on it for too long though with Bucky waving him over and grinning like that. "So ya kept me waiting an extra fifteen minutes just for a shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination anyway? Shoulda stayed topless."

"I'm starting to think you wanna see me mauled half to death by the women of New York," Steve wasn't much for gloating, but he had been in ridiculously good shape for the army and he couldn't deny that the musculature had done something to increase attention from potentially interested parties. He hadn't been more than a lanky, awkwardly tall kid before the war, but the army moulded him into something more than all bones and sharp angles.

"I might, bruises might be your look," Bucky answered with a smirk as he stood and leaned in to give Steve the same familiar hug he'd gotten at the party.

Steve couldn't help the snort that fell from his mouth at that, "Well that was blatant."

Bucky shrugged that smirk still playing on his lips, "Yeah, well that was the question of the hour when we parted ways."

"Nope, breakfast first, then we'll pick up our conversation," Steve was feeling obstinate again, and if he could gauge a little better what Bucky's reaction would be while they waited, well that was just an added bonus of security. Not that he was even going to suggest they do anything once they finished this conversation, but it was better to have the security, just in case he changed his mind. Steve was not above being coy to get what he wanted.

Steve had never seen Bucky move so quick to get his ordering out of the way, and this was a guy he'd known through his every growth spurt. In contrast, Steve took his time making his decision; partially to annoy the hell out of the other man, but also partially because he hadn’t been here in a while and he couldn’t remember what he liked was called. So when they got back to the table - check split down the middle and number in hand - Steve wasn’t surprised by the questions falling from Bucky’s mouth, “Who did you play with first? What were they like? What sort of things did you try? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“No, Buck, you first. How come all your escapades you told me about in High School didn’t involve a single kinky thing?” Steve pressed, two hands wrapped around his mug.

“I censored myself,” Bucky admitted, a groan on his lips, “And it was baby kink back then. I thought it was risque to bring out a blindfold and call my partner dirty names. And yeah, that’s still fun, I just thought it was a lot... more.”

"And now?" Steve was relentless, a glint in his eyes that he wasn't even trying to hide.

"Now I've got a lot more experience with more than a few partners."

"Nat one of 'em?" Steve interrupts at the opportunity to ask. He'd been curious the minute he'd seen their chemistry on the dance floor.

"A few times in the past, yeah, but not now," Bucky admitted, "And I'll get to that in time. If you'd stop interrupting me I could get to answering your first question." His tone was a little more scolding, but with an undertone of amusement that Steve didn't miss.

Still, he was apologizing before he could even think about it, a look of shame burning into his coffee, which wasn't getting enough attention anyway.

"S'fine. Just need more than ten seconds to answer about what I like to do now," Bucky paused for the arrival of their food and it was like torture waiting for Steve. But when Bucky picked up where he had left off the sensation eased, "Nowadays if I take a partner we discuss safety concerns and words and limits because I don't want to hurt anyone, despite deeply wanting to cause harm."

"Ever switch?" Steve bit into his breakfast burrito to keep himself from interrupting too much, a medley of salsa, spinach, sausage and egg keeping him from a verbal blunder.

"Not really no. Pretty consistently I top. When Nat and I did have something we switched occasionally, before she settled into being a full time Domme. And me, I like dominating too much to give it up entirely, so we called it then."

"Must've been when we were much younger," Steve assumed, mind rolling over the idea of Bucky and Nat and what sort of mischief they must've gotten into between dance classes.

"Yeah, Army didn't leave me much time for consistent partners," Bucky admitted with a shrug, "Nat and I were young when we played. After her it was really only occasional partners or one-off scenes."

"Can I ask what you enjoy most?" A blush settled on Steve's cheeks and he couldn't deny he was fishing for similarities. If Nat thought they were compatible there must have been a reason.

“Of course you can ask,” Bucky considered for a moment before continuing, looking off in the other direction and taking a moment to actually eat, "I think I like the Dominance and submission aspects the best. Yeah, I know that's a broad answer, but let me continue. I like being able to tell my sub what's best for them, how they should dress or do their hair, what I want from them, and I like watching them comply. I like pushing their boundaries and expanding our trust, and I love having my submissive completely compliant with my demands. Within reason of course."

"All of that... Sounds pretty great," Steve was definitely schooling his expression, despite how much that hit his wants and needs on the nose. It usually didn’t matter what he was being subjected to so long as he was doing it perfectly for his top. He loved his dominant making decisions for him and taking away the unsurety that came with not knowing what was best.

“Alright,” Bucky grinned, finger pointing at his empty plate, “You’ve finished your breakfast and I told you mine, so how about you tell me all about yours.”

Steve couldn’t help the tinge in his cheeks, but he resigned. This was the deal he’d struck so he might as well get on with it. At least there was still some coffee in his cup to sip at when he needed to gather himself, “Well you knew all the girls I dated in high school - all three of ‘em - and I ain’t you Buck, I didn’t take ‘em all to bed. But what did happen for me in those years was pretty… vanilla.” The word had slipped out as if he had said ‘disappointing.’ Not that vanilla sex was bad, but undeniably he had been craving more even then.

“What, nothing with Sharon?” Bucky asked, unbelieving.

“Oh, there was a bit with Sharon. Just not too much out of the usual spectrum,” Steve admitted, the heat in his cheeks growing deeper before a couple sips of coffee brought it down again, “And then my unit was shipped out, and there wasn’t much time for self-discovery overseas. But then I came back, and I enrolled in classes and I met a woman in the library… Her name was Peggy.” Steve couldn’t help the look of adoration that was crossing his face at his recollections of her.

Bucky’s curiosity did not go missed, his hair falling out of his perfect ponytail and into his face as he looked at the other man through half-lidded eyes, “So tell me about Peggy.”

“She was amazing,” The blond couldn’t even stop himself from the praise, even while he was adoring Bucky's attentive expression, “She used me perfectly, knew exactly how to tell me what to do and when to make me listen. She had a litany of tools she liked to use and she pushed my limits, but never crossed them. Our favorite thing together was probably impact play, but I'm fond of sensations period. Peggy was a good Domme for me when she was here."

“So what happened to her?”

“Her student visa came up and she went back to England to be with her family. We decided not to pursue a long-distance relationship, since we’re both fairly physical people and also fairly monogamous. Figured we’d let someone else have the opportunities that we’d already taken advantage of,” Steve answered with a shrug, the adoration going right out of him.

“Have you?” Bucky pressed.

Steve shook his head after a moment, lips pressed firmly together, “Hadn’t really met anyone I wanted to take the opportunity.”

“Was that why you were at the party?” Bucky sat there with his chin in his palm and elbow resting on the table like he was king of all Brooklyn and Steve was his favorite subject.

“Jesus you are relentless!” Steve exclaimed, a groan on his lips now that the tables had turned on him, “Maybe I was lookin’, and maybe I saw something or someone who I liked the look of there, but what’s it to ya? It ain’t like you’re askin’ me to make time for a scene with ya. I’m sure ya got plenty of other options Barnes, so as much as I’d like to go ahead and tell you all the details, I don’t think it’d be very wise a me.”

“You sayin’ ya wanna play with me?” There was that sparkle in Bucky’s eyes, unceasing, and Steve knew he’d let on a little too much.

“I mean, well, you’re an attractive guy Buck, anyone’d be lucky to have the opportunity to get into bed with you, but I mean it probably we've known each other since grade school. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea for us,” Steve was backpedalling hard, but he could tell by Bucky’s expression that he wasn’t backing down.

“Why not? Your tastes differ from mine? Never been with a guy before?" Bucky's questions rolled off the tip of his tongue as though he didn't even have to think about them.

Steve rolled his eyes, already dismissing the suggestion, “Oh and as if you have.”

“A couple times here and there,” Bucky granted as though it weren’t any skin off his back to say it, proud as always to be who he was no matter what, “The guys I've been with just weren’t the right fit for me, so we called it and went our separate ways.”

Steve, admittedly, was caught off guard.

“Oh, did I get ya speechless?” Bucky asked with a grin, “That’s gotta be a first. Steve Rogers the smartass always has somethin’ to say.”

The blond didn’t even try to refute that, brows furrowed while he went over things in his head.

“S’okay, take your time. I probably shoulda told you a long time ago,” Bucky admitted, leaning back in his seat a bit.

“Yeah, probably,” Steve sighed, “Does Nat know?” He was curious to know if her texts had been based on more than just suspicions.

“Not until that party last week. Was telling her about a guy I might be interested in, and she is as much a matchmaker as she is a trouble maker,” Bucky joked, cleaning his hands off with a napkin and over all keeping his body language very casual, as though he was trying to communicate without words that it would be fine if nothing came of this conversation. Which told Steve all the more that Bucky wanted something to come of this conversation. You didn’t go seventeen years being someone’s best friend and not pick up on a few things. Those things tended to stick even if you hadn’t actually seen said best friend in years.

“S’that what you two were talking about after your dance?” The recollection of it had Steve admitting to himself that he wanted desperately for something to come of this conversation. Still, he couldn't bring himself to be the one to say it.

“A bit,” Bucky admitted, grinning for only a moment longer before his tone turned suddenly quite a bit more serious, “So I’m gonna ask you official-like, just once, and you can think about it however long you need to before you answer, and you don’t have to feel weird about it or like anything’s changed if you say no. Stevie, do you want to come home with me sometime and play? And then we can see where things go from there?”

Steve didn’t even have to think it over before answering, entirely honestly and so grateful that Bucky had taken the responsibility from him, “Yes please.”


	3. Claiming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Smut. Is. Excessive. Smutcessive. 75% of these words are smutty, smutty words. This literally took me days to write. I wanted to have it up like a whole week ago. I edited it very quickly in the last hour. Gods, I hope you like it.
> 
> I'm not even gonna talk about why this isn't half as kinky as some of the things I have planned for them. It's their first hook-up guys. They're going to take it easy. Next time they'll talk about doing weird shit. And by weird shit I mean, the shit I love.
> 
> Thanks for subscribing and kudos and comments and all of that good stuff. I love it.

"How long?" Bucky asked, his tongue licking long, heated stripes down the blond's painfully hard erection. It was only teasing in comparison to the hard sucking Buck had given him moments before, so ferocious that it had Steve squirming and begging for mercy while in the same breath hoping desperately that Bucky would never fucking stop. “How long?” Bucky repeated, a whisper of hot air ghosting over the sensitive, wet, hard flesh of Steve’s cock. He couldn't even stop himself from groaning and hardening even further in response.

His hands were bound to each other and then to the headboard with silk rope and it was impossible think straight with all the attention he'd been getting from Bucky's lips. Steve knew that he had heard the question the first time Bucky asked, just like he knew the answer he'd like to give, but it's not coming to him. His tongue had gone and made such a mess of itself that Steve wasn't even sure he knew what words were anymore. The thought to reply with some smart assed quip had already come and gone, but now Steve was just barely grasping at the straws of language - and he was fluent in three of them.

"Would you like me to ask you again?" Bucky rumbled, vibrations just barely there at the tip of Steve's cock.

Steve couldn't even help how desperate he looked just then, nodding rapidly along and eyes shining with lust, "Please, please, please Sergeant," Steve begged, somehow finding his voice in the haze that clouded his mind.

Bucky didn't really have a preference for names or titles while he was in bed with someone, at least that was what he'd said before they'd ended up in this position. Steve would always be able to call Bucky by his name if he wanted and that much had been made explicitly clear. Bucky wasn't someone else while he was in bed, he’d never been a Sir or Master with Steve before, so he wouldn't make Steve start calling him something new. He didn't want to change that dynamic that they shared outside of the bedroom, and Steve could respect that. Though now Bucky was looking at him with three times the want, and Steve started to wonder if Bucky didn't have a thing for hearing himself called by his rank.

"How long have ya wanted this Stevie?" The growl belied more truth in Steve's assessment than doubt, and the realization went straight to his groin.

His head, however was still struggling to answer Buck's question because - damn the brunette - he hadn't let up on his tongue's ministrations any longer than required to speak. Sounds were coming out of his mouth he knew, gasps and groans and the starts of words and hisses of air, but none of them were the sentence he needed to string together to just answer. “Fffff--” Steve choked out, the air getting caught in his throat, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckin’ forever Buck,” And suddenly the words were falling from his mouth like the dam had broken through, “Jesus I can’t even remember a time where I wasn't fantasizing about you. You were the most beautiful boy in our entire fucking school, and you knew it with the way everyone threw themselves at you, with the way you danced, or how you moved in any sport on any field, and you played it up. But you always came home with me on the weekends, spent your time in my backyard, in my pool, on my couch.”

Bucky cut him off from his ramblings then, before he could fully realize what that last bit had meant. Hot lips were on his and a warm hand braced on Steve's hip, the heel of Bucky's palm much too close to the base of his cock. For all the muscles in his chest and arms and legs now, Steve tended to forget that his hips hadn't really changed all that much. But when Bucky's hands were covering him - so much of him all at once - Steve felt like some of his smallness was coming back to him. He moaned into the kiss, the flavor of Bucky's tongue something decadent and dark despite all his talk of being just another guy. Steve strained against his bindings for just a moment, eager to feel more of Bucky's skin against his before coming back to himself and relaxing, though his breathing remained heavy and wanton.

"Knew it," Bucky gloated against his lips, his voice all husk and want still, "Shoulda said somethin' all that while back." Another heated, hard kiss met Steve's lips before Bucky was leaving wet pecks down Steve's neck and chest. The kisses grew into the smallest nips, little blooms of bruising just beginning, and then into the largest of bites, teeth marks covering whole expanses of skin and indentations staying behind for far too long before smoothing out with the rest of his skin.

Steve watched, eyes full of their worship, and even without any attention his erection remained proudly standing. "Fuck you're still the most handsome thing I've ever met," Steve barely even registered speaking out loud, but he did register the loud smack that came with the words, and the reddening hand print that Bucky had left behind on his thigh.

At first Steve had worried that he'd said something or done something wrong, but then he saw Bucky's grin spread wide as he leaned up, practically preening at Steve's worship, "What do ya want tonight Stevie?" Bucky prompted, his flesh hand going to stroke Steve's cock lightly while his prosthetic held him over Steve. Though they had discussed what they were going to do beforehand, Steve appreciated the chance to change his mind, even if he didn't want to.

And he certainly did not want to, "Want you to fuck me so hard I don't remember where I am, so hard all I think about is you, so hard you leave bruises everywhere your fingers have been holding me. But before that I want you to lick me open slowly and then take your time spreading me with your fingers. Make me wait until I'm begging for it. Then don't make me wait anymore." While Steve hadn't done any of this with a man before, he had his share of toys and had done plenty all by himself, or once or twice with Peggy. But it was Bucky who he'd always fantasized about doing this to him, not just any guy, not just some Joe on the streets.

Bucky's left hand went straight to grip Steve's cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet while Bucky assessed Steve with all the intensity of the hunter staring down its prey. And though Steve knew this was the unnaturally strong arm, the grip was perfectly careful not to go beyond firm, not to exert excess pressure, "I won't make you wait when we get there," Bucky's voice was perfectly measured, but his arousal was straining at hearing Steve speak without any trace of shyness, "But you will have to beg to get there."

Steve nodded his agreement minutely, knowing that if he shook off the hand that was burrowing into his cheeks he would miss it instantly. A thumb traced over his lips and Steve pressed a tiny kiss to the digit, eyes locked with the other man's just a moment longer. While he knew Bucky couldn't feel with the prosthetic as he could with his flesh hand, it was more the sense of worship he was trying to communicate.

He could tell that Bucky was getting that message loud and clear just by the way he was looking. Then his lips were headed down again, exactly as Steve had asked, right to that puffy pink hole he'd cleaned out so rigorously for Buck. The brunette positioned Steve's legs so his ankles could cross over the small of his back, and Steve could feel his thighs just barely brushing Bucky's bun, mussing up his hair even further. Somehow though, with the fevered look in Bucky's eyes, Steve doubted that he was thinking about how his hair looked just then. That was all fine by Steve, because he thought the other man looked perfect.

Bucky started slow, his tongue moving with a calculated deliberation, teasing slow while he waited for Steve to relax. Each swipe of the tongue tore another small noise from Steve's lips, feeling ever smaller with every passing second. He yearned to move with Bucky's mouth, but firm hands in the dips of his hips kept him still. His shoulders and wrists and everything in between ached from their straining position above his head, but it was a good sort of dull ache that had him wishing they'd bound his ankles together too. Another time maybe.

And then Bucky finally dipped his tongue into Steve, stretching that sweet ring of muscles just slightly, pulling his name from the blond man alongside an angry twitch of his cock. Steve could feel the perspiration gathering at his brow, and he knew already that his voice would be hoarse the next day from all the noises he was making, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. If he weren't already so caught up in his wants, he might have been embarrassed by his demeanor, but there wasn't anything left of him for that. There was only the sensation of Bucky's tongue slowly pulling him apart and the chafing of the cuffs against his wrists and the burning needs of his arousal.

It wasn't long before Bucky had Steve completely unraveled that way, calling out, "Sergeant, Sergeant, oh Buck don't stop, fuck that's amazing, Sergeant please," over and over again, among a litany of small curses and hushed idolizations. His cock strained for release and Steve knew he was leaking precum everywhere, oh but he didn't want to cum just yet. Not just from this.

Steve felt a cool, slicked digit breach his entrance and a startled cry fell from his lips at the change of texture. "You alright?" Steve heard Bucky ask as if from afar, and he only just registered himself nodding back, mind already drifting into an elevated state of bliss. Bucky must've been far more aware of Steve than he was about himself, because he knew just how to move that one finger to spread Steve wide and make him squirm all the more. 

It felt like forever that Bucky was moving just that finger in and out of him, and Steve suspected he was deliberately aiming just shy of his prostate, bringing him so close to that point and then pulling away again. "You're somethin' else Stevie," Bucky breathed, "Taste so sweet on my tongue, and sound so perfect with my hand playing ya like an instrument that only I have the privilege to play," With his words a second finger joined the first, stretching him wider with slow scissoring motions and little twists of his wrist. Steve felt so wonderfully full and he just wanted all the more from Bucky.

It wasn't until the slow, agonizingly slow, introduction of Bucky's third finger that he gave Steve the satisfaction of the lightest brush to his prostate. A throaty moan escaped him then, and he wondered momentarily if he would come from just this. "Feelin' neglected?" Bucky asked, tracing his tongue lightly over the head of Steve's cock, grinning all the while.

Steve shook his head vehemently, blond strands of hair falling in his face and sweat shining on his forehead, "No, never, this is perfect."

Bucky's grin just about broke off his face at that, and he pulled another long, strangled moan from Steve with another deliberate thrust of fingers to prostate. He eased off his left hand to brush the hair that had fallen in Steve's face aside, leaning his side on Steve's hip to keep himself up without removing a single digit, "I could make ya come like this, then clean the come off ya with my tongue, make ya wait for me ta fuck ya just a little while longer."

Steve's eyes rolled back in his head while his hips rolled to meet Bucky's hand, all the more eager with every word the other man spoke. It took a couple of tries to get his response out, as caught up in his pleasure as he was his brain had to work over sentence structure at least a few times, but he was pleased to hear himself get the words out without stopping or stuttering halfway through, "If it's what you want Sergeant."

"Good answer Stevie," Bucky hummed, his voice raw with his own want, but always thinking of Steve first. His tongue sucked heavily over Steve's cockhead once, then twice more, forcing the other man's member all the way back to the base of his throat before redoubling the efforts of his fingers. Then his mouth abandoned Steve in favor of pressing heated words against the flesh of his stomach, "I think I would like that."

Steve groaned out his pleasure while Bucky's fingers worked their way in and out of him, words completely at a loss to him at that point. That must've been fine though, because Bucky was talking as though he didn't expect any answers, as though he was just happy to watch the expressions play across Steve's face and the ever constant hardening of his cock, "Bet your cum tastes as sweet as your ass. Bet you'll be completely wrecked just from watching me eat up the drops of you all across your abs."

The truth of it was Steve was already wrecked just thinking about the image of it. The thought of watching Bucky's throat swallow down his taste combined with the hard and fierce finger fucking he was getting ripped another guttural moan from Steve, his head tossing back and forth, pupils blown and body flushed with heat. Steve's legs were shaking at Bucky's back and his eyes slipped closed and before he even knew what was happening he was coming with soft whimpering sounds.

It wasn't even seconds after Steve's seed hit his skin that Bucky's tongue was following, hot and eager. His fingers eased their ministrations, though Bucky kept them buried deep within, which gave Steve enough time time to settle his heart from its harried beating and truly relish in the feel of Bucky possessing him like this. "I was right you know," Bucky's tongue darting out between words to dance across the other man's flesh, "About your taste. Sweeter than anything I've ever known."

Steve could only blush harder, his breath still too shaky and uneven to manage a response. All the worship he was getting felt like so much in comparison to what he was used to, and someday he'd return the worship in kind - in fact he already had very specific fantasies about how to worship Bucky the way he deserved - but this wasn't the day for it. No, it was a day for taking Steve's words away and getting to know each other in an entirely new way. It was a day for toe curling activities and ferocious declarations and rough actions. It was a day for claiming.

Steve knew it all the better when Bucky murmured sweet possessive words against his skin, all too hot against sensitive flesh, all so very repetitious. It wasn't long after, though it felt like hours, caught in the haze of post-orgasm joy, when Steve found his voice again, raw still from misuse, "Still want to feel you fuck me, Sergeant."

"It doesn't sound like you're begging for it yet Stevie," Bucky teased, his tongue still finding droplets of cum to clean off of him and making ever more elaborate designs on his skin, "How do I know you want it if you aren't begging properly?"

Steve moaned, and ground his hips against Bucky's hand again, "I want it," He breathed, barely above a whisper.

"Do you?" The brunette pressed, fingers brushing over Steve's prostate before leaving him entirely.

Steve couldn't stop himself from whining at the sudden absence, "Yes, God yes I want it, please let me have it Sergeant. I want it more than I could possibly beg for it, and I need it from you. God, please don't tease me anymore."

And then Bucky was covering his body with harsh kisses and warm skin, “Enough,” Was all he said before he found Steve’s lips and buried them with his. He right hand went to find the lube again, and his left found the condom he’d set aside earlier. It only took a few seconds to slide the condom on, adjust Steve's legs so he would be more open to Bucky, and line himself up with the other man's entrance, but it felt like an eternity to Steve and soon couldn't be soon enough for the blond.

Still, Bucky took his time making certain that he had applied enough slick between the two of them, and he took precious moments just brushing his cock over the soft flesh of Steve's ass, teasing until he had Steve whimpering for it incoherently. Bucky's lips stole those whimpers from him, without a trace of gentleness, simultaneously claiming Steve's ass with his cock. It was a glorious stretch of flesh, pleasure lined with just a hint of pain, and Steve gasped at the suddenness of it. Bucky stilled when he bottomed out, allowing Steve time to adjust with his head just above Steve, their eyes locked. Already his length was twitching back to life between them, and at Bucky's utterance of "Fuck you feel so good," he was helpless to stop himself from hardening fully.

Steve stole a tiny kiss from Bucky, his fingers curling around the ropes that kept him tied, and gave a small nod. He wanted to feel Bucky move inside of him, and he wanted to feel him there for days afterward, and he was done waiting for it, despite the fact that his arousal was almost painful from his lack of proper resting time. Bucky kept his thrusts slow and deliberate, his hands finding their place in the hollows of Steve's body, pushing himself as deeply inside of the other man as he could manage. The brunette managed to pull noises from Steve with each motion, no matter if he had hit his prostate.

Bucky kept his eyes trained on his face as his incoherent noises turned into words and sentences, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, more please, please don't stop, take me apart, fuck," All the while Steve’s dick strained that much harder with each passing second.

Bucky gave up on eye contact as Steve squeezed tighter around him and buried his face in the flesh of Steve's neck. Each word that Steve let slip from his lips was rewarded with soft kisses paralleled by sharp nips, tiny bits of flesh pinched together. Bucky was bringing them both closer with a steady increase in his undulations and those little affections to Steve's skin never let up, not even when Bucky started to sink into him with less controlled motions and more harried actions of need and want. If anything the marks being left behind grew in fervor and frequency as he got closer, and his hands were gripping at Steve so tight that Steve knew he'd be getting the bruises he'd begged for earlier that night.

"Gonna cum for me again, just from this?" Bucky groaned into Steve's ears, teeth grazing the flesh of Steve’s earlobe while his hands slid up the blond's sweat-slicked chest and his hips snapped harder. There was just so much to touch, so much to feel, and Bucky wanted all of it, every single sensation that he could pull from Steve.

Steve hissed his pleasure, eyes squeezed shut while Bucky pushed into him over and over and all the way to the hilt until it was all Steve could really focus on, "Dunno, want it, you feel so fuckin' good, I’m so fuckin’ full, but don't think I can." It was just too soon since his last climax, but the sharp sense of pleasure spiking through his groin was relentless.

"Open your eyes," Bucky commanded from above him, and Steve could feel that he was adjusting angles to get just a little deeper, to hit that spot just a little harder, "Look at me Stevie."

Steve opened his eyes, blue landing on the grey-blue that belonged to Bucky, and all the intensity that came with that look. The brunette pressed his forehead to Steve's and lined his arms next to his, hands digging deep into the flesh of his forearms. "Keep your eyes on mine Stevie, and you'll cum for me. I know ya can."

Steve's eyes blinked closed for what might have been just a bit too long, but then he pulled his eyelids apart again and doubled his efforts to concentrate on the eye contact, "I don't know if I can though," He hissed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as a result of how overly sensitive he was, but Steve wouldn't have it any other way.

"I know ya can," Bucky assured him, the quirk of a smile playing on the corners his lips, "Come for me Stevie." Bucky was definitely pushing him, but with the angle and ferocity of each thrust, harder with each passing second, it didn't sound so impossible anymore.

Steve didn't say anything, but he felt Bucky’s grips on his arms grow tighter and inside of him he thought he could feel Bucky grow impossibly larger. His eyes started to drift away, but Bucky brought back his attention with a sharp drag of teeth over his bottom lip, “Eyes on me Stevie.”

He nodded his agreement, their lips just barely brushing together. "Good," Bucky murmured, "Fuck ya feel amazing," There was a hitch in his voice caught up in between words, and a suddenly harsh hiss of air that left Bucky when the sharp snapping motions of his hips almost fell out of time entirely.

It was then, of course, that Steve found courage to speak again, "Don't stop Bucky, please never stop my Sergeant," Came his tiny pleas, eyes wide with wonder as he watched Bucky's eyes go from calm to completely destroyed in less than a minute.

"Not stopping till ya come again," But the look on Bucky's face told Steve that he was so very close anyway. Maybe that was what sent Steve tumbling over, back arching and cock aching and tears finally falling, watching Bucky demand him to come while he clearly needed to so badly himself.

"Oh god you're fuckin' gorgeous," Bucky's voice shook and their foreheads fell hard together, but he kept his eyes locked firmly with Steve's all through the blond's mess of noises. Steve could tell that Bucky's climax had hit him too through the twitching that was happening inside of him, which felt amazing in an entirely new way that would definitely have to be explored further. The intricate little motions of Bucky's hands on his arms and entirely fucked out expression were definitely bonuses to keeping his eyes open.

They stayed together like that for a good while longer, watching each other's pupils dilate and calm in the dim light of Bucky's room. No matter how long they'd spent like that, seconds, minutes, hours, when Bucky climbed off of him it felt entirely too soon. A groan of discontent left Steve, but it was quickly replaced with one of relief as Bucky unbound his hands.

"You ok?" Bucky checked, taking Steve's wrists in his fingertips to massage them back from numbness and lack of blood flow.

"Good," Steve confirmed, eyes fluttering closed for an instant before he shifted his gaze to watch Bucky shift his attention from palms and wrists to forearms and some of his larger veins, "Feels nice."

"Figured it might," Bucky answered with a smirk, and Steve could see that he was looking at the fresh finger shaped bruising on his arms.

"That felt nice too," Steve said pointedly, "More of that next time please."

"Gladly," Bucky answered easily, still massaging his way up Steve's arms. They were positioned in such a way now that Bucky was leaning with his back against the headboard and Steve firmly pressed into the flesh of Bucky's abs. They had definitely moved on to something softer, "Liked this a lot Steve," He wavered a bit before clarifying, "I mean I liked it a lot with you."

"Think my arms are good for now Buck," Steve sighed, flexing his wrists and trying to ignore the fact that the timing for that thought could have been completely discouraging. He couldn't manage to ignore it entirely though, so he murmured lightly, "Loved it with you too."

"Thanks Steve," Something in Bucky's reply was as vulnerable as Steve felt, so he didn't even resist the automatic thank you on his lips. They stayed entwined like that for a while longer, Bucky's chin firm on the top of Steve's head, making him feel oh so small again. Steve had fallen into a light doze when he felt Bucky moving behind him, as carefully as he could manage with a man who was actually larger than him lying on his chest. Steve heard whirring and a couple quiet clicks and then he felt the thump of something falling on to the bed to his left. When Steve adjusted to he could see just what it was, his eyes widened with the realization that it was the arm.

"I didn't think that would be able to come off," He admitted in a quiet, half sleep ridden voice.

"Oh yeah, I can't sleep with it on. Keeps me up and... Having phantom pains with a prosthetic is actually really weird," Bucky acknowledged, if a little awkwardly, "Also what sort of mad scientist would Stark be if he just fixed people with potentially dangerous or faulty equipment that can't be removed?"

"He'd be a Stark. I just..." Steve quirked his lips and shifted in Bucky's lap to get a look at the shoulder where the prosthetic had been attached just before, "I thought you said you had feeling in it."

"Oh yeah, when it’s hooked up. I have a couple sensor implants," Bucky pointed out a few spots around the nub of his gnarled shoulder, "The arm itself is lined with a bunch of heat and texture sensors, and those link up with my implants kind of like magnets attracting to one another. The implants then trick my brain into believing that whatever happened on my prosthetic is actually happening to me, all in the manner of milliseconds. It’s the same sensors I use to send commands to that hand. It's all very sci-fi, doesn't even need a strap, supposedly designed with comfort and progress for veterans in mind. Still can't sleep with it on though."

Steve couldn't resist looking now that Bucky had the scars showing right behind him. It wasn't staring so much as a curious sort of observation, "Can I ask about it? How it happened?" Steve questioned ever so quietly. He could feel the brunette tense behind him just slightly, but he didn't move away and Steve wasn't ready to give him space yet, so he just pressed himself further into Bucky.

"It wasn't a building falling on me while I rescued small children Steve. It wasn't anything quite so heroic as that. And it wasn't a random IED. It’s a lot uglier and less random than that would have been," The other man answered, but he didn't push Steve away or change the subject.

Steve's fingertips were trailing dangerously close to the mangled scarring on his chest and shoulder, "May I?" He hesitated when he realized just how badly he could be crossing boundaries, "I'm sorry, you don't have to talk about it at all if you never want to."

"I want to, sooner or later. I have to talk to my therapist about it on the weekly, but you're different Steve. I've always been the one meant to be saving your ass," Bucky answered, his one hand tracing nervous circles over the flesh of Steve's right thigh.

"I've had to support you from time to time in the past. This time it's just more," Another second of hesitation passed before Steve could continue, "Permanent."

"I know. I know you can be here for me for this. Which is why I want to talk about it. The words just don't come so easy," Bucky admitted, "Can we turn the lights off and lie down for a bit? Maybe I'll come to it after, I don't know, some time. Or some thought. Or maybe it won’t. But would you lie with me for a while anyway?”

“Of course Buck,” Steve chuckled, sliding aside so Bucky could readjust however he liked, “Where else would I go?”

“Home? I don’t know,” Bucky shrugged and he grabbed his prosthetic with his right hand, simultaneously kicking the rope off the bed to be taken care of later. He slipped off the bed and onto his feet, only losing balance for a few seconds, before moving to place the arm on top of the dresser. He took the time to detour to turn the lights off on his way back to the bed, “Just wasn't sure what you’re plans were from here.”

“I brought an overnight bag you dork,” Steve snorted, swatting in Bucky’s direction while he slipped under the sheets, rolling over onto his right side.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky answered, a stupid happy grin on his lips as he dropped back down, the bed dipping heavily as he laid next to Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve snorted with a shake of his head. He didn't let any more smart ass comments slip through though. Bucky’s arm right arm was under his neck and his fingertips were curled in the fine blond hair of his chest. Steve’s back felt super heated against the cool skin of Bucky’s torso, but he burrowed in closer, yearning only to be held tighter, and Bucky complied all too easily, as if he were half afraid that Steve would leave him sometime in the night.

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah Buck?”

“I don’t think I want to share ya with anyone else,” Bucky confessed against his ear, eyes closed and breathing the scent of him in deep.

“I know I don’t want to share you with anyone else,” Steve answered possessively, the fingers of his left hand slipping over Bucky’s right, intertwining after long seconds of just brushing over Bucky’s rough knuckles.

“Good.”

It was hours later when Bucky spoke up again, and Steve was mostly asleep by that point, conversation long abandoned, but the words still registered in his half-dreaming state, “Ya coulda touched my scars if ya wanted Stevie.”

“In the morning Buck,” The blond grumbled from the warm space provided by Bucky’s arm, “Sleeping now.”

“Fair ‘nuff.”


	4. Opportunities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some fuckin' cute smut mofos.
> 
> Also, comments and kudos are appreciated as always.

Upon waking, Steve found that Bucky was absent from his side, but the of the smell of eggs and fresh bacon permeated the apartment and he knew the other man wouldn't be too far off. Steve snagged a fresh pair of boxers from his overnight bag and stumbled to the bathroom to straighten himself out. After fixing his hair - that's as good as it's going to get Steve, put the hairbrush down - and taking a few moments to look over his new bruises - the one in the hollow of his left hipbone was turning out to be his favorite - Steve headed to the kitchen.

"Mornin' punk," Bucky called at the sight of him, already smiling, dressed in just a pair of loose fitting pajama pants, "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Steve yawned, eyes watering, "You?"

"Alright," Bucky answered with a shrug.

Steve noticed that he was going about making breakfast one armed, and he almost leapt to help, until Bucky warned him off with a look. They had picked up wordless communication again almost immediately after their second conversation since their reunion, and it didn't help that Steve wasn't the most subtle of people.

"I got it, don't worry about me," Bucky defended before Steve could even think to verbally offer. And the food was already in the pan, practically done, so it must have been alright.

“Fine,” Steve sighed, looking over the kitchen and finding evidence of Bucky’s independence everywhere. Rubber bands on cutting boards to keep things in place and clips every which way, and Steve noticed that for all Bucky's confidence about what they'd done the night before, he seemed to be awfully insecure about all the little details in his kitchen hinting at his disability.

Steve decided then not to push any harder, and just slid up behind Bucky to line kisses around the brunette's shoulder blades and spine, his nails trailing lightly over Bucky’s bare back. He earned a soft sigh from the other man at the attention and Steve couldn't help but grin all the way from ear to ear at that. "Whatcha makin' for us Buck?" He asked, though he knew if he just peered over Bucky's shoulder he'd find out, but that would mean he'd have to abandon his trail of kisses.

"Mmmn, omelettes with onions and chives and tomatoes and tons of cheese, with a side of bacon. Almost done, but if you keep up that kissing I'm liable to forget I'm cooking at all," Bucky answered, his one hand tightening on the handle of pan, but he didn't make a move to get away from Steve’s little attentions.

So Steve kept kissing, lightly, barely there, but just there enough, “I got faith, you won’t burn nothin’ and I bet it’ll taste fine.”

“You’re lucky the bacon’s already on the plates,” Bucky groaned again, a deep rumble caught in his throat, and shook his head. If Steve could see his face, he’d know just how blown his pupils were, and how hard he was trying to keep his focus on the pan in front of him. Somehow Bucky managed to plate the omelettes without any fumbles or slips and even added a little parsley for garnish. Shit looked nice, if Bucky had anything to say about it himself.

Steve backed off just enough to let him bring the plates to the small table in Bucky’s kitchenette. It was only about five feet away from the stovetop, otherwise Steve wouldn't have been able to stop himself from taking the plates in his own hands and making himself useful. At it was, there was already a pitcher of ice water on the table, two empty glasses and their silverware all in place. Bucky had beaten him to doing everything else already, so why should Steve take away the metaphorical icing on the cake? Bucky taking a minute to make the two trips that were required for the two plates wouldn't do him any harm, though Steve had to remind himself repeatedly of as much while he waited.

Admittedly the food smelled amazing - and if his stomach had anything to say about it, Steve was hungry. So he sat across from Bucky and let himself pick up his fork and take his first bite, “This is actually really good Bucky,” He couldn’t hide his surprise. It wasn't that Bucky had been a bad cook in high school, or that he had been lying when he’d spoken earlier about his predictions, Bucky had just lacked... Whatever this had earlier in his cooking experiments.

"I know right? When did Bucky Barnes have the time to learn what the fuck a flavor palette is?" The brunette joked good-naturedly, chuckling between bites, "Pretty much when I decided Army food generally bites, and also that I would not be living at home when I got off tour, so ma's cooking wasn't going to be an option all the time."

"So sometime between your first and second tour?" Steve clarified, an amused half-smile playing on his lips.

"Sounds about right," Bucky nodded with a smug half-smirk caught on his lips.

"So what's this new job you have lined up with StarkTech?" Steve prompted, curiosity left over from the other night when they'd moved on from the topic too quickly.

"Security, with grooming to be the potential head of. The old head's on his way out with retirement, and Ms. Potts claims I'm overqualified for the position. I'm not so sure, but the steady job is appreciated," A little insecurity showed in Bucky's tone, but he hid it well behind the act of eating and the mask of a joke.

If it weren't for the fact that Steve knew him so well, he might have missed it, "So you start Monday then?"

"Yep, Monday until whenever I don’t want the job anymore. I'm told if I find a better opportunity or find myself unsatisfied with my job I can leave at any time."

"Even with...?" Steve asked, making a general gesture towards the empty space where Bucky's left arm should have been.

"Oh yeah, the arm's a whole separate thing. One of Stark's pet projects. Me working security was Ms. Potts' idea, after she was introduced to me. Really she's in charge of the business aspects of StarkTech, and Tony's just a prodigal child with big ideas and a bigger ego," Bucky explained, “He wants to try and launch a whole series of these prosthetics for vets at affordable prices, but he needed actual subjects. He’s been venting about not wanting to just entrust this prototype to anyone, and then Nat mentioned my name. So now I've got a prototype arm and a series of appointments with Stark, investors and various doctors while they discuss my health and the practicality of the project.”

Steve nodded, taking a moment to absorb the vastness of what was one little arm, “I mean I guess that explains more of why it’s so different from anyone else’s prosthetic, and why Stark would pick you out of a ton of guys who would probably love an opportunity like this.”

“Yeah, it’s lucky, I guess,” Bucky gave a small shrug, “I’m just happy to be home most days.”

“Yeah, same. I mean, school’s going good though, and my roommate’s a good guy, kinda gruff, but overall a good guy,” Steve offered, “I still go to group every other week though, it helps a little.” He didn't need to say out loud that flashbacks still happened, night terrors were still a recurring theme, and overreacting to sudden unexpected motions or sounds would probably never stop. That was something most veterans shared in unspoken gestures or motions.

“It doesn’t really help that most of my unit are still deployed or… not exactly around,” Bucky shrugged, “We can get into it later. Maybe I’ll join you at group next time you go. But today’s... I'm not going to dwell on it today.”

“Yeah, I’d like that sometime Buck, when you're ready,” Steve agreed, but not pressing at all for Bucky to continue. He’d love to talk about all of it, but it would be up to Bucky when he’d be ready for that. He’d been there and he understood. Anyone would need their own time to process what war put them through, and so long as Bucky wasn't in the self-harm stage of things, Steve wasn't going to be insistent.

Their conversation seemed to come to a halt for a time after that, Bucky chewing and Steve sipping, and the heavy tension that this sort of topic left behind hanging thick in the atmosphere between them. Finally Bucky came back to himself, "Anything you need to get from home before your two o'clock lecture?"

Steve shook his head, grateful that the tension seemed to have been dispelled by just a few words, "Brought everything over just in case we overslept."

"Anything you wanna do before then since we didn't oversleep?" Bucky couldn't even begin to hide the mischief in the crinkling of his eyes.

Steve deliberately chose to ignore it, a little shrug on his shoulders, "Eat this delicious breakfast my..." Dominant? Boyfriend? Top? None of the labels seemed appropriate just then, and then the blond remembered a bit of his own mischief, "Sergeant made for me. Then maybe we'll take a shower, not sure about after that though."

Bucky's look alone was worth calling him that, because he looked just about ready to fuck Steve into the floor in response. His tone though was a cool contrast of nonchalance, "I could get behind a hot shower."

It came as no surprise to Steve when it only took them ten minutes to finish their meals and run the shower long enough to get it nice and hot. Steve was fumbling with his shorts and Bucky'd already shed the pajamas he'd fit himself into this morning when the brunette had apparently decided he'd been waiting long enough. For only having one hand, Bucky was especially efficient at getting Steve's boxers off while simultaneously kissing him into the nearest wall. When Steve kicked off the things entirely, he let himself be manhandled into the shower, and he wasn't sure if Bucky's roughness was what pulled the gasp from him or the hot spray of water running over his skin.

No small sound Steve made lingered long between them, Bucky all intruding presence and harsh kisses while Steve just reveled in the pure energy radiating off of him. "Fuck," Steve heard himself groan against Bucky's lips, his back to the cold wall of tile. How he'd ended up there so quickly was beyond him, but he didn't care just then, "Sergeant."

"Again," Bucky demanded as he angled so he could kiss and nip heatedly into the flesh of Steve's jaw, "Say it again for me Stevie."

"Sergeant," Steve gasped, his head falling back to allow Bucky more access to his neck. Another groan slipped between his lips as Bucky found his already hard cock with his hand, only grasping firmly, kneading the sensitive flesh in his palm, but avoiding any of the much needed friction that Steve craved so badly, "Sergeant. Please."

"What do you want Stevie? Beg for me," Bucky pushed, the whole of him leaning against Steve while his hand delayed further.

"Oh god-" Steve hissed, restraining his hips from thrusting into Bucky's grip, his face and chest flushed with his arousal. Bucky's tongue and lips were slowing undoing him from their small ministrations over his collarbone. Steve knew it wouldn't be long before he forgot words entirely, so he spoke in a fervor - as though there wouldn't be a chance to get this right if he waited even a second longer, "Want you to - want you to stroke me off, hard and fast right fuckin' here Sergeant, want you to make me come undone underneath you, want to cum so hard for you, then I want ta - ta be on my knees in front of you, sucking down every inch of you while you fist your hand in my hair. Force me to choke on you, fuck I've wanted that forever," Steve pleaded, his heart hammering in his chest at the pleased sound Bucky made in response.

"Well you're quite the needy thing this morning ain't ya?" Bucky growled back, his hand slipping up over the flesh of Steve's cock, fingertips pinching the edge of his foreskin.

The sound that slipped past Steve's lips then was absolutely obscene, echoing over the shower stall walls and reverberating through the bathroom. Steve’s acknowledgement came in the form of a barely visible nod of his head, his eyes already half shut while his hands slid against the wall of the shower.

Bucky waited a beat, and then another, the stream of hot water beating into their skin relentlessly, and Steve stood frozen, unsure whether or not he was allowed to do anything or go anywhere. Thankfully, Bucky took pity on Steve’s aching cock and started stroking in earnest. A knee braced carefully between Steve’s thighs and against the wall to keep him upright while he took his time serving long and languid strokes. The expert motions of his wrist, the flicking of fingertips over the tip, the water running down his neck and shoulders, the teeth and tongue that danced across that sensitive spot behind Steve’s ear all served to take him apart.

Little sounds - _uhn, uhn, uhn_ \- fell out of his control and towards Bucky’s ears, the chorus to his symphony of sound nothing but the expert beating of his cock. And Bucky was going faster, harder, giving more with every single stroke, all that presence bearing down on him that much more. Bucky's mouth found Steve’s pecs - glorious tits that they were - and turned savage on the little pink pointed nubs, sucking bruises around one and then the other in turn. His teeth left behind little sharp tears in his skin and pulled a yelp from Steve’s lips. Bucky followed with long affectionate licks though, and seconds later Steve was moaning again.

In one second it was all too much, in the next not nearly enough and Steve was not much more than a sorry case of shudders and small cries. All too quickly it became a case of full-on pleading for more, more, _more_ until finally Bucky caught his lips again, fiercely possessive of his noises and words. Bucky had always been the sort to give Steve exactly what he wanted, and this was no exception to the rule.

Fingers flexing and toes curling over the porcelain underfoot, Steve came hard and fast and sudden. He had barely any breath in him at all to gasp with, but he did gasp. Steve murmured his thanks with eyes closed, nothing but bliss on his tongue. Thanks for Bucky's knee under him keeping him from sliding all the way down to the floor, for turning his limbs to jelly, for kissing him fiercely through his release, for being just the right amount of possessive and a thousand more little things that could only be captured in the complexity of the smallest of thank yous. Steve felt lips on his, with just a graze of teeth, and he forced his eyes open with all the effort of someone suddenly and heavily drunk.

"Ya aren't done yet are ya Stevie?" Bucky breathed with that trademark smirk.

Slowly, sluggishly, Steve shook his head, "Just need a moment." He wanted to give just like he had said he would, but his head was still in that fuzzy space post orgasm that never allowed for much coordinated movement. Bucky was pulling back from him, just enough so that the spray from the shower could get between them and wash Steve's mess away. And oh _god_ did that spray feel good on his muscles, relaxing him even further. All the while Bucky was taking his sweet time peppering kisses everywhere over neck and collarbone and chest and shoulders and humming appreciatively.

Slowly, oh so agonizingly _slowly_ , Steve found their positions reversed, Bucky placed himself against the wall with Steve pressed tight against his chest. Bucky's right arm wrapped tight around Steve's waist, as though Steve might disappear if he let go.

To be fair, he just might, with how loose his limbs were feeling just then. Steve almost laughed at the thought, but Bucky was kissing him slow and dirty and sucking on his tongue and making Steve moan all over again. There was no room in his mouth for such a thing as laughing just then.

"Ya ready?" Bucky rasped against him, their lips just barely brushing together.

Steve nodded, and Bucky's hand was snaking up his spine, fingertips dragging until they reached Steve’s scalp, where they gripped violently at the roots of Steve’s hair, a stark contrast to their previous languid pace.

The other man pulled Steve closer, until their cheeks were just brushing and he could feel the heat of Bucky's every breath against the shell of his ear, "Tap twice if you need to say something, understood?" Bucky's voice holding that tone of command Steve craved - no, _needed_ \- so much.

Steve's eyes were already looking downward towards his goal despite the fact that there wasn't as much to see from this angle - his face buried in the crook of Bucky's neck while the other man caressed Steve's earlobe with hot nips - as there was to feel. The hardness of Bucky's cock brushing against his thigh, the eager undulations of his hips, the pressure of his hand in Steve's hair. "Understood," Steve answered, tone hushed, barely audible over the pitter patter of heavy droplets of water.

Bucky was already shoving him down on his knees, his hand like iron on his skull, but Steve just goes without a single protest to being manhandled. His lips traced down Bucky's skin as he's pushed - it was the best he could do with the hurried pace Bucky had set for him - and he had no time at all to make a decision or even think about it before he took the entirety of Bucky's length into his mouth. His hands groped blindly for purchase over the hard lines of Bucky's calf and thigh muscles as he gagged on the girth of it. Bucky's hand softened, questioning for a moment, but Steve refused to tap out when he'd only just started, when he'd barely even tried.

Steve backed off a bit, testing himself, licking and grazing his lips along the shaft. He set himself to a less urgent pace, he had time after all. He couldn't deny that he was new to this, and that fact made him eager to be all the better, so he let Bucky's grip on his scalp guide him, little by little, inch by inch. His fingers flexed, still undecided as ever on where they'd like to settle, and his eyes watered, but when he looked up Bucky was looking at Steve as though Steve was giving him the entirety of the world. He ducked his gaze, only just sneaking peaks through too long lashes, and only very occasionally. But Bucky’s look seared straight through to him, never wandering, never wavering.

He redoubled his efforts, managing to figure out that swallowing was actually the way to go when trying to ignore his gag reflex. He sucked hard and fast in one moment with hollowed out cheeks, and in the next he changed his tempo to slow and dirty, his jaw slack and his tongue toying at a vein on the underside of Bucky's cock that seemed to get the most explicit noises bubbling out from the other man. Bucky's hand was twisted up harder than ever in Steve’s hair and he was so close to fucking Steve's face by that point, so Steve knew he was getting something right. He kept at it, and finally his hands found the perfect spot to rest on Bucky's ass, pulling the other man so close that his nose was buried in the curls of hair at the base of his cock.

Steve caught himself gagging, took one breath and then another to force himself to relax a bit more, and  he let his eyes wander up to meet Bucky's once more. The expression he saw on that face, something caught between pure ecstasy and complete agony, pulled a whine from Steve's throat and he gave just the littlest push against the other man's cheeks. It was the smallest of insistences to hint at the greatest of his wants.

That seemed to undo Bucky entirely, "Fuck ya- ya really ain't done this to no other guy before?" He was full on fisting Steve's hair and unable to stop himself from fucking straight down the back of Steve's throat. It only served to make Steve whine further, brows knit tight and grip even tighter and searing hot on Bucky's ass. "Fuck, Stevie, _fuck_ , don't dare fuckin' stop ya hear me?"

Steve kept his jaw slack, and his eyes, sweet hell his eyes were too pretty to be anything but made of pure sin just then, and he didn't stop. For the life of him he didn't think he could stop, and he'd drown there under the shower spray before he'd stop if it was what Bucky wanted.

Bucky was panting over him and his back had started to bend just slightly and his thrusts were becoming just a little less even and meticulously measured. No, not yet though, just a little while longer, "Shhhh-- shit- Christ Almighty Stevie I am never letting another man--" Bucky's sentence ended too soon, the thought drowned out entirely by a strangled sound.

His hand found the base of Steve's neck, and then the side of his cheek, forcing Steve's eyes, huge and blue and blown to pieces, to meet his own, "Mine, oh _god_ you're all mine Stevie and I'm gonna truss you up and take you out and do all manner of nasty things to my gorgeous Stevie when everyone's lookin' the other way. Jesus they won't even know the half of what I'm gonna do to you. Won't know even half of what the hell you do to me, and if they found out they'd just be more jealous than the devil himself knowin' they couldn't have ya. Sweet mother of _fuck_ -" Bucky was rambling, but it didn't matter what he said when he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, when he couldn't help his grip tightening on Steve's neck, when he couldn't keep himself waiting any longer. Steve knew he was cumming before Bucky did, but none of it mattered because Steve swallowed down every drop like a thirsty water nymph just getting back to her lake after years of being kept apart and Bucky was crumbling around him like so many tall, old, once strong buildings that no longer had it in them to stand up all on their own. But none of it mattered anyway, because they weren't alone, because the water was still running overhead and it was still somehow graciously, miraculously hot.

They took long moments to hold each other and kiss trails of water from one another's cheeks, hands still seeking to find the perfect spot to grip on the other and finding none that did not appease them just as well as any other. On their knees on the floor of the only slightly too small shower they washed each other clean of sweat and dirt and cum, with shared soap and shampoo and laughter that rang deep and sincere and just a little cruel when one or both of them got some of the suds in their mouths.

Steve had taken just a little too long around the scars mucking up Bucky's shoulder, but Bucky couldn't find it in himself to be angry about it. Not when Steve's touch had been all feather light and gentle over the grooves that had once been a much larger part of him. Not when Steve was only returning all the care Bucky had ever given him when they were younger. Bucky just didn't have it in him to be angry when Steve had that look on his face, lips set in a quiet determination, eyes focused and a little to hard, teeth sucking in one side of his cheek to chew on. It was only a stones throw away from his fighting face, but Bucky knew the difference alright.

Only after even longer moments of trying to rinse all the soap bubbles completely down the drain did they stand, skin pink from too much scrubbing and the cold water. It had turned cold about five minutes after their little antics had come to a close and that had to have been at least ten minutes before they finally got towels wrapped around their waists.

It had been entirely too long a process with Steve constantly refreshing his supply of soap just to cover Bucky's navel or nipples or ass and make some joke or another about mixed media or art or dinosaurs because fuck it why not. Not to mention both of them had somehow forgotten that water was running at all. But there they were, toweled off and not quite dry. Steve had stood up first and Bucky had even let himself be helped up in turn. He had even managed to only grumble about it inwardly.


	5. Intimacies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is way overdue. Look all I live!

'I want you on your knees again Stevie. Soon. Now. You were so, so good for me.'

The message had lit up Steve's phone right in the middle of the five hour lecture Bucky had dropped him off for. Like he couldn't wait to make Steve's pulse roar again, like every moment spent apart was too far away from the next in which they'd be together.

And while it was true that the simple, short message had made Steve's heart pound loud and his ears flush red, he resisted the urge to respond immediately. This line of conversation and thought was just going to put him that much further from listening to three more hours on the history of city planning. He let his thoughts simmer and he turned his phone off through the rest of the afternoon and hoped he could refocus his attentions.

The effort was apparently moot because all Steve could think about was how perfect Bucky had looked above him. Tiny sketches of abs and limbs and scars and smiles kept appearing in his notes - if you could have even called them notes at that point - and Steve lacked the self-control required to stop himself entirely it seemed. Somehow during the previous night Bucky had been both vulnerable and exposed while also maintaining a precise sort of control, and it had left Steve in a place of near pure awe. And that morning after... while the only other cocks he'd ever sucked were the ones Peggy had used on him, Bucky had given him so much praise... It sort of had him over the goddamn moon.

When the lecture was over, he'd managed to all but forget his phone was off up until he was back in his apartment. Logan was out, but that was no surprise, Friday's were his night at Itsu's apartment and given that knowledge Steve wasn't expecting to hear from him anytime soon. When he turned his phone back on, a sort of half-unconscious ‘I should check for potentially important messages’ action, it starting buzzing all over again.

'Can't wait to eat you out again, make you squirm for me again, make you beg again. So pretty like that.'

And again.

'Wanna show everyone who you belong to, mark up all over your pretty neck until it's just one giant fuckin' mess of purple, make everyone jealous of who I got.'

And again.

'Gonna take you out and make you ache to be somewhere alone with me, somewhere you can swallow every inch of me again, make you do things you've never even imagined doing.'

And finally, once again.

'Gonna own you completely.'

Steve hesitated, his cheeks heated and while his mind ran through every single scenario. He thought about texting back, thought about just sitting on it for a while longer, but there was a part of him that didn't much care for the idea. Before he knew it he was listening to the discordant ring of his phone in his ear.

Bucky picked up after one, maybe two rings, "Hey Stevie," fuck there was even trouble in his greetings, making Steve sweat with anticipation, "What can I do for ya?"

Steve’s breath was shaky, and his heart pounded too loud, and two words stumbled out of his mouth like too much air in his lungs, “Safe space?”

“Yeah, I’m in a safe space,” Bucky’s tone immediately changed, concern bleeding through, “Are you? Do you need me?” Steve could just see him leaning forward, ready to grab his keys and come find him wherever he may be, no matter the circumstances.

“I’m in a safe place,” Steve pushed out, his chest heaving as he fell onto the couch, not even bothering to try and get to his bedroom, “I’m home. I just… I meant... I’m just… affected.” With some great measure of effort Steve kicked off his boots and propped his feet up on the coffee table, his eyes fluttering closed while his mind ran over the possibilities Bucky had lined up for him.

“By my texts?” Bucky asked, “I figured you’d be in class, I just wanted-”

“Not in a bad way. Affected in a good way,” Steve cut him off, “In the toe-curling I want to do some of the things you suggested right this moment sort of way.”

"So you liked 'em?" Bucky confirmed, only the beginning of a smile hiding in his voice.

"I love them. Actively am loving them. Right now loving them as we speak," Steve answered, unconsciously unbuttoning his shirt. One button, then two.

"And you were asking for a safe space?"

"More like making sure it would all happen in a safe space-" 

"I will always make sure you're in a safe space," Bucky interrupted, and Steve could hear the change in his breathing, faster now.

"Perfect," Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Do you need me then?" Bucky pressed, an entirely different sort of urgent tone taking his voice, enunciating every word perfectly, and if Steve had money and some poor sap to bet against, he'd bet that Bucky was at that devilish grin again.

"I... Maybe? Just talk to me for a while. I have a lot of work to do later, and maybe a sleepover wouldn't be the best idea for my productivity. Tell me more though. Why'd you stop?"

"Well after five texts with no response I figured it best to let you concentrate on class and get back to me when you had the chance," Bucky answered with a laugh, and if Steve closed his eyes he could see exactly the face Bucky always wore when he was getting up to mischief.

"Well now that I'm out of class, elaborate a little?" Steve asked with a blush running all the way down to his chest.

"I think you've been elaborating already on what ya want," Bucky paused, and Steve could hammer out the implication of what Bucky wanted from him.

Even still, he wanted to hear Bucky tell him to, "Maybe a little."

"You should elaborate to me Stevie. Tell me what ya like, tell me what you'd do," Bucky provided in exactly the tone Steve had hoped for. A little bit demanding, a little bit impatience, a little bit lust, and all Bucky.

"God. Damn I wish I could hear that tone from you all the time," Steve let slip before he could stop himself. And once it was out of him, he couldn't find it in himself to care that it had been a little bit demanding. He wanted Bucky to know what he liked and what he didn't after all.

"I'll work on that, soon as you're telling me all about how ya wanna be good for me," Bucky answered, his voice just a little husky behind that teasing tone.

"I wanna be so fuckin' good for you, I'm gonna be perfect. Take my time to worship every inch of you, stay perfectly still when you want me to, make noise only when you want me to," Steve's reply came through only slightly labored breathing, a hand already wandering down the hard lines of his chest, imagining it was Bucky instead.

"Touching yourself thinking about me?" Bucky sounded completely confidant of the fact, as though it weren't a question at all.

"A little, can I?" Steve pleaded, his hand still brushing over himself while he sought permission.

"Of course," A breath, and then as if it had been an afterthought, "Take your shirt off if you haven't already."

“Yes Sergeant,” Steve answered in the moments between dragging his fingertips over chest and shifting enough to pull his shirt upwards and over his head. He made his best effort to keep the phone at his ear, but it still slipped for half a second. He almost started in on a litany of apologies, but Bucky cut him off before he could, distracting him with yet another demand.

“Tell me what you’re doing, what you’re thinking when you’re doing it.”

Steve’s breath caught at the sheer command in Bucky’s tone, but he gathered just enough of his voice to do as Bucky asked, “Shirt’s off now, m’touching over my chest and stomach, thinking about you. ‘Bout how your teeth were there just this mornin’ while we were in the shower, feelin’ myself getting hard just thinking about how fucking good you tasted. Rememberin’ the sensation of helplessness under the water and choking you down. God, so fuckin’ hot.”

"Yeah it was," And there was almost a hitch in Bucky's voice that made Steve wonder at just how much he was getting to the other man.

"Yeah, it really was," Steve breathed, "Wanna take my pants off and stroke myself off to you and your perfection, gonna make all sorts of noises for you."

"Bet you will," Bucky answered with complete surety in his control of the situation.

"Not yet?" Steve questioned, his voice wavering for a moment.

"Absolutely not yet," Bucky forced Steve to wait long seconds in silence, just the sound of their breathing to pass them by, before lending further instructions, "You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you liked from my texts, and what it is you want me to do to you most when I next see you. You're going to have to describe it in painful detail, and if you tell it well enough, then and only then will you be allowed to stroke yourself off."

"Okay," Steve knew he sounded weak in the knees - and he was - but he kept talking, "Okay. I can... I liked your surety, your tone, your ownership. You taking away my choices and just telling me how it's gonna be - that’s perfection. Everything you said - every single word - aroused me. I want to beg for you, be on my knees for you after you get me hot somewhere in public, I want you to make a mess of me while you eat me out, I want the whole world to know who keeps me."

All the while Steve spent precious moments of concentration to pinch at the points of his nipples, imagining they were Bucky’s fingers making him writhe instead. "Tell me about next time Stevie. What do you want?" Bucky's voice only reinforced the imagery of the Sergeant above him, leering and looming and looking like everything Steve's ever wanted.

"Can't decide," Steve admitted, defeated by his greed. If one image was more perfect than the next he could not tell.

"Needy thing," Bucky teased, and Steve got the distinct image of Bucky sitting a little straighter, grinning a little wider, or maybe leaning against a wall with arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Uh-huh," And Steve was nodding fiercely along even though he knew Buck couldn't see his gestures. His enthusiasm wouldn't be missed though, not with the way his voice strained in his throat.

"You're gonna hafta make a decision Stevie," Bucky drawled, a chuckle buried underneath his words.

"Can I just worship you back? Spend an inordinate amount of time with you relaxed in front of me while I do whatever you like and get to touch every inch of you? I... I really want to give that to you." His fingertips felt hot on his skin and he couldn't quite help how much he was playing with the buckle of his belt - his cock so hard and aching for permission. But Steve could be good, as good as he could manage, and so Steve’s anxious fingers waited.

"That sounds... Like exactly what you need," Bucky sounded like someone had taken the breath right out of him, like thinking was getting harder and standing would be the next basic function to go.

That's how Steve knew he was doing his job well enough to ask, barely more than a harsh whisper, "Can I? Sergeant. Please." His hand hovered just there, and his cock was begging him for some form of release.

"Yes. Yes you may," Bucky gritted out, and Steve could see the tension in the other man's jawline if he just closed his eyes. His hands scraped at his pants and managed to just barely get them down to mid-calf before Steve was stroking at himself, “But I gotta hear ya babydoll, nice and loud for me. Can you do that for me Stevie?”

A huff of air escaped his lips, swollen from all the little moments when his teeth seem to get caught around them. A muffled sound of agreement pushed itself between his teeth, Steve’s brain not quite catching up with the order just yet, but trying. Fuck if it wasn’t trying. A moment with his eyes closed and another incomprehensible little moan escaped up and out of his throat before he managed any words whatsoever, “Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” He just barely managed, breathy and oh so wanton.

“You close for me already babydoll?” Bucky taunted, his voice deep and throaty and just on the right side of a little mean.

“Uh-huh,” Steve nodded along with his answer, even with no one to see, too caught up in the moment to realize it.

“I keep you waitin’ too long?”

“Uh-uh,” Steve repeated through a throaty moan, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth and his eyes shut tight and the phone just barely there between his shoulder and his ear, threatening to fall with the ferocity of his strokes.

“Good fuckin’ boy,” And Steve could hear Bucky moaning too on his end of the line, albeit much quieter and much more controlled, but moaning nonetheless, “Got me strokin’ myself for ya Stevie. Let me hear ya cum for me, imaginin' it's me on your cock, squeezin' and teasin' and usin' ya just as rough as ya know ya like it." 

“Oh shit,” An intake of breath followed, his cock straining even harder to obey, to be good, to do as it was told, “Ohshitohfuckohfuckfuckffff---” And Steve came hard and sudden, his curses fading into a long, drawn out moan. He could only just hear Bucky’s own noises over his own, incoherent words of praise that didn’t matter in the moments where his vision was blurry from exertion and skin too sensitive too touch.

Steve had the distinct pleasure of listening to Bucky push and pull himself to finishing minutes later while Steve just got to breath into the phone, grinning kind of like a loon and a little too relaxed to put himself back together yet.

“Thanks for that Steve,” Bucky broke the silence after long moments of nothing but panting and heaving chests, “Perfect.”

Steve hummed into the phone his agreement, his heart still thud-thudding in his chest, “I liked that,” But Steve had always been quick on the uptake, and even elated and incredibly relaxed he was a quick learner, “All of it, don’t ask which part. The talking, the orders, your voice - especially your voice. Babydoll. Especially babydoll.”

Bucky rumbled out his own appreciation, the hint of his chuckle already showing up again, “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Please do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got ya.”  
  
“Always have, always will.”

“Good now?”

“So good."

“Gonna get any work done?” 

“At this point? Highly unlikely. But damn if I don’t try.” Steve answered with a chuckle of his own, happy to hear Bucky full on laughing with him, “Ok, but I really should go.”

“Be sure to clean up,” Bucky’s voice caught somewhere between casual and demanding on the sentiment, “Call if you need me again?”

“Definitely.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh you love him already,” The sound of Natasha’s teasing coming across the table wasn’t what Bucky had been particularly craving, but he should have expected nothing less. He only answered with a groan and a roll of the eyes, all the denial he could muster.

He had owed her dinner and the plans had been for tonight and he'd nearly forgotten in the heat of everything with Steve earlier. She’d prodded him about why he was late and it wasn’t like Bucky had anything to hide from her, so he'd told her he'd gotten caught up on the phone with Steve. And she didn't have to hear the details to know exactly what they were, Natasha had never needed words to read Bucky, “Faster than last time,” She added, fingers almost caressing the stem of her wine glass as she sent him that knowing smirk, "If your need to get all gruff on me says anything."

Bucky occupied his hands with a slice of bread, still warm from the oven -

"You had to resist saying it at the end of that phone call didn't you? As if it was just a phone call."

\- and proceeded to shove it directly into his mouth. Clearly he'd said too much already.

She took a sharp inhalation, her eyes widening with a realization, and Bucky dreaded what words would come out of her mouth next, "Oh it's been since before you even deployed. The first time. I mean I figured when I was dropping hints I was helping aid a years old crush along, but this. Oh this. This is full blown love, the sort that thrives feverishly in the absence of the other, looks for substitutes and finds everyone lacking, inspires devotion that poets have struggled to verbalize for eras, the sort that makes you stupid with haste."

"The fact that you deciphered all this from 'I got caught up on the phone with Steve, be there in 30' sent via text makes me wonder what sort mind reading powers you think you have," Bucky shot back sarcastically.

"Not mind reading," Natasha answered smoothly, "I just know you too well James. There's no way you two were just talking. And considering you were already 15 minutes late when you sent that text implies you were cleaning up after yourself. Not to mention the defensiveness. I know how to read you James, and you only get defensive towards me when you know I'm right."

"Yes and you have always been the Sherlock in our relationship." Bucky had a feeling his eyes were gonna get tired of rolling long before this dinner was over.

"Again with the defensive sarcasm. If it weren't true you'd simply deny it and we'd move on," she paused to take a sip of the wine she'd ordered, "Also yes I am the Sherlock here and I will get worried and protective and jealous when you inevitably decide to marry him, but I'll let you do it anyway because it's what's best for you and I respect you. Also because I know you won't forget about me in the long run."

"Tash, I think you might be taking this analogy just a little too far a little too fast," Bucky answered, worrying at his bottom lip and his leg bouncing under the table.

"I know, don't worry about it. Just do what comes naturally,” Nat paused a moment to sip again before diving right back into it, “It's ok to have loved him all this time, you know."

"It's not the loving him part I'm worried about, it's the 'who's going to find out' and 'how will I protect him from that inevitability' that worries me," Bucky admitted, and he didn't have to meet her gaze to see the look Natasha was shooting his way.

The food came then - thank god - and Bucky thought for a half a moment he was saved from this conversation altogether, but no. No, Natasha was just waiting for the waiter to clear from their table.

"You know you could just get a restraining order, that would be the smart thing to do," Natasha spoke between bites of risotto, “That would be what a sane person who values their privacy would do.”

“But I am not sane and I actually…” Bucky’s sentence fell off into a sigh, shaking his head.

“Respect isn’t something you can keep after how he treated you, doesn’t matter how high up he was. And you don’t owe him shit. He didn’t rescue your ass from a barren desert, bloody and bruised and more damaged than anyone could know. He just ordered you back. And when you came back, he looked at you like you were nothing. Then he dumped you,” Natasha groaned her annoyance, “Just thinking about him is spoiling my risotto, I’ll have you know.”

“Then stop, I don’t want to think about him anymore than you do,” Bucky offered, hoping that would be the last of it.

Of course he would be wrong on that one, “One more thing Bucky,” Natasha sipped at her wine, looking like she was reveling in the strength of the alcohol and also like she wouldn't have very much left shortly, “Just because Pierce wants you back now that you’re piecing yourself back together doesn’t give him the right to try and take you by force. Doesn’t give him the right to invade your privacy, to be in your personal space again. And if he thinks that he has that right I’m going to take his balls and shove them so far down his throat that he won’t be able to taste anything else for literal weeks.”

A grimace escaped Bucky at the image, and the knowledge that Natasha was entirely serious about that, “Done now?”

“I’m done now,” Natasha confirms with a nod, “So tell me all about your proposal plans. I may have only gotten to know Steve in your absence, but I know him well enough to know that he deserves nothing less than the best and if you don't give it to him, I will be sorely disappointed in your performance James Barnes.”

Bucky’s groan didn’t have a hope of being heard over Natasha’s proposal planning.

 

* * *

 

“So when do I get to meet him?” Sam Wilson teased over Skype.

“I dunno, whenever I stop feeling so greedy when I’m with him,” Steve answered back, not even bothering to gloss over the truth, “It might be a while. It’s kinda been a long time brewing.”

“Okay, fair, but you’re gonna take him out to eat sometime, and then you’ll invite me and he’ll invite Nat and it’ll be great. He’ll share stories of little you and you’ll share stories of little him and Natasha will leave to probably vomit at some point. It’ll be nice, I promise,” Sam joked.

“Can we just avoid the obvious shared topic that is our PTSD in a date setting,” Steve shot back, his exasperation competing with a chuckle.

“Nah man, we’re saving that for group, which you skipped last week by the way,” Steve almost hated that small gesture and the grin on Sam’s lips.

“Okay, that was Nat's fault entirely, and I will come for the next session. But can you stop gloating and get back on topic. Y’know, move away from Bucky?”

“But Calculus isn’t nearly as entertaining as listening to you get flustered. Also, I am going to get Natasha’s number this time, I swear on my mama’s fresh baked apple pie.”

“Helluva swear there Sam Wilson,” Steve whistled, perking a brow, “But seriously, I need to run through Taylor polynomials again. My brain isn’t liking numbers tonight and you are going to save me from them.”

“You will help me get her number or I will not help you with any polynomials. Period.”

“Fine,” Steve conceded with a sigh, “I’ll see when Bucky and Nat are open next week. Let’s hurry it up though, I’m at risk of falling asleep to my math homework.”

 "You have yourself a deal my good friend," Sam answered with barely a moment before launching into a full blown lecture about the topic. And while Steve was grateful to have one of his best friends in a class that was not his strong-suit, he was wondering if he would later regret this deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conflict is a-brewing. Just imagine a more mid-forties and heavily decorated Alexander Pierce Like if Brad Pitt had played him.
> 
> Comments and kudos, as per usual, are appreciated.


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